


Midnight in the Garden of Light and Dark

by traveler_spawn



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveler_spawn/pseuds/traveler_spawn
Summary: The story of the Speaker, and the Guardian the Traveler seems to hold in high favor...





	1. Speaker's Dream

_His dream starts out the same way--that of a struggling garden. The plants are wilting, weeds are rising up to choke and overrun everything that he sees. In the center is a towering tree, bare of all it's leaves. Its bark is brown and withered. The Speaker knows the dream is probably his own fears--the garden is the City, the tree the Traveler, and the weeds the Darkness...but he also knows that the dream is exactly what it means. The Darkness is creeping ever so closer, the City is struggling, and the Traveler...is all but dead. _

_But there's something different this time. The Speaker slowly turns in a circle, the fabric of his robes rustling. His Ghost appears alongside him, fins spinning softly. It does not speak at first, its eye searching the dreamscape as well. Then it stops, fixing strongly on the dying tree._

_<Look.> It transmits. The Speaker obeys, shifting and looking at the tree. Then his breath catches in his throat, eyes widening beneath his mask. At the base of the dying monolith, is a sapling. Its bark is silver, and the baby leaves on it shimmer with Light. The health and vitality it radiates is a stark contrast to the dead and dying aura of the garden. The Speaker doesn't know who moved first-his Ghost or himself, but he suddenly realizes he's standing in front of the sapling. He kneels down in awe, his Ghost hovering nearby._

_"Where did you come from?" He whispers, reaching out with one gloved hand. His mind whirls with the possibilities -could this be the Shard?_

_<It's pure Light.> His Ghost whispers, reverence in its' tone. The Speaker dares to bring his hand closer-but then pulls it back, wincing. The power the sapling wields is too much to dare touch, his nerves had begun to scream in pain. As he watches, the Light-leaves begin to shift color--from pure white to an electrical blue. A low rumble of thunder is heard, causing the Speaker and his Ghost to suddenly look at the sky. Storm-clouds have gathered, and as the two watch, lighting flashes as rain begins to fall. The Speaker rises to his feet, turning around to look at the garden. Is it his imagination, or do the weeds look different-?_

The strident ringing of his comm unit pulls the Speaker out of a doze. For several moments he's motionless, his brain trying to pull itself free of the dream and into reality. He swears he could feel the Light of the sapling still, the moist, earthy smell of the rain as it fell, and still hear the rumble of thunder. Shaking his head, the Speaker reaches out, fumbling for the device.

"Yes?"

_"Speaker."_ The voice of Zavala banishes the last lingering tendrils of the dream, his voice solid and grounding. _"We just had a transmission from Old Russia. A Ghost has found a new Guardian. They're currently enroute." _

"I...see." The Speaker shakes his head, collecting his thoughts. "Keep me informed. When they arrive, I'll head to the medical unit." As the call ends, the old Warlock inhales deeply. The image of the silver sapling still lingers in his thoughts.

"...Go to the others." He says. His Ghost materializes at his side, waiting. "Find out if there has been any change in the Black Forest." The whirr of a tiny engine is a reply, and the Speaker pushes himself up from the chair. He looks towards the window, the sun is still high in the sky. Overcome by a sudden urge, the Speaker moves towards it, pushing open the sash. Before him the City unfolds-sparkling in the daylight. It all seems and feels normal...but the Speaker cannot help but feel that _somewhere, someplace_...something has shifted.


	2. A Guardian and The Speaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the City's newest Guardian, the Speaker issues an order.

It was her Light that he sensed first. The Speaker straightened from his desk, turning his head to the side. His office was open to all—the better for him to see and observe the goings on in his area of the Tower. It also helped that he was not too far away from Hideo’s base of operations—the better to monitor the man, and to stay one step ahead of his machinations. Walking towards the stairs, the elder Warlock started to descend. Stopping halfway, he rested one hand on the railing. Below, he could see Ikora’s newest student—Selene, that was her name.

_She’s been outpacing every other kinder-Guardian. And I’ve had to progress her to more advanced lessons._ Ikora’s voice echoed in his thoughts. 

_ “She killed an Archon on the very first mission I gave her. And she discovered the Hive in the Cosmodrone.” Zavala gestured. “Her Light is strong, the strongest I’ve seen in a long time.”_

“...You were right about that.” The Speaker murmured. Looking with otherworldly senses, he could see the inferno that pulsed just under the woman’s skin. Normally if the newly-resurrected Guardian survived the first three to six months, their innate Light would be tempered by their personal wards. But for what was in front of him, the young Warlock’s wards were doing nothing to hide the sheer brilliance of her Light. 

_But has it not been like that? The brighter the star, the faster the Darkness snuffs it out._ Drawing a veil over his Light-enhanced senses, the Speaker continued down the stairs. As he came closer, he could see that the new Guardian still wore the novice armor of her class-a blue short robe over a form fitting armored bodysuit, the plain white band of a student as her Bond on her upper left arm. Ikora was ruthless in her training, no student of hers was permitted to wear full Warlock regalia until they had achieved at least the basic mastery of Void and Solar. Arc was all but a lost discipline, very few Warlocks in the City held knowledge of it. Next to the young Guardian’s head, her Ghost hovered. The Speaker found that his lips were twitching—the small drone was sporting a brand-new Vanguard shell, designed to withstand relatively heavy combat. Such items were expensive—and were a strain on a young Guardian’s basic budget. In comparison to her Ghost’s shell, Selene’s armor was clean and well mended, though it did sport signs of battle usage. 

_Though that is good, she does care for her Ghost…_ As the Speaker watched, the pair wandered towards the platform that showed the Traveler in its’ full scale. 

“There was a time-” He began, seeing the young pair turn towards him. “When we were much more powerful. But that was long ago.” Coming down the final steps, the Speaker continued. 

“Until it wakes and finds its’ voice, I am the one that speaks for the Traveler.” He watched as Selene quickly bowed, her Ghost dipping its’ fins respectfully.

“Speaker.” Her voice was soft, with an Old Russian accent. 

“You must have no end of questions, Guardian.” The Speaker gestured to the platform’s railing. Distance was needed when it came to the younger recruits. He’d watched Zavala, Ikora, and even Cayde take the losses of promising Guardians hard. Out of the three, Ikora was the one who was still considered the ‘softest’ on the newly-Resurrected. As for his own feelings. the Speaker knew he couldn’t afford to become too emotionally involved. He’d had too many lessons to ensure that—Osiris, Saint-XIV…

“In it’s dying breath, the Traveler created the Ghosts.” The Speaker watched as Selene’s Ghost flew higher, stopping to look at it’s creator. “To seek out those who could wield it’s Light as a weapon. Guardians, to protect us, and do what the Traveler itself no longer can.” The Ghost turned around at those words, floating back down. The Speaker watched as Selene reached out to gently touch the drone’s fins.

“What happened to it?” She asked, turning her head. 

“I could tell you of the great battle, centuries ago.” The Speaker said, turning away. “I could tell you of the power of the Darkness, it’s ancient enemy.” Slowly he walked towards a holographic globe. 

“There are many tales told throughout the city to frighten children.” Stopping, the Speaker looked down at the purple lights of the globe. “Lately, those tales have stopped. Now…the children are frightened anyway.” Turning, he faced Selene.

“The Darkness is coming back. We will not survive it this time.”

“Its’ armies surround us.” The Ghost—Ozy, the Speaker remembered, that was the name it had been given—said with an electronic whirr. “The Fallen are just the beginning.” The Speaker watched as a pensive look crossed Selene’s face, before her fingers fisted and a resolute expression took its place. Squaring her shoulders, she faced the older Warlock.

“What can I do?” She asked. 

_…I am asking a child to bear the burdens of an adult…_ For a moment, the Speaker didn’t want to reply. It had taken both Zavala and Ikora to make him agree to this—to trust in the Guardians left who were struggling to keep humanity’s enemies at bay. It had been curiosity that had made him request that Selene meet with him following her string of accomplishments as a kinder-Guardian. And now here he was, about to send off a child—even though she was a fully-grown woman, Selene still was an infant in comparison to him, the Vanguard, and other Lightbearers. And yet…there was something about her, that the Speaker could not put his finger on. Was it that she’d been able to survive seemingly impossible odds so far, or the radiance of her Light? 

“You must push back the Darkness.” The words left his lips, unbidden, and the Speaker found himself moving again, walking towards the younger Warlock. “Guardians are fighting on Earth and beyond. Join them.” With those words, he had effectively ordered Selene to join the ranks of the senior Guardians, despite the fact she hadn’t even reached a full six months as a Guardian yet. 

“Your Ghost will guide you.” Selene and Ozy both glanced at each other, a small smile crossing the russet-haired woman’s lips. “I only hope that he chose…wisely.” With those words, the Speaker turned on a heel, dismissing the pair. As he walked back to the stairs, he heard Ozy’s electronic chirp.

“I did. I’m sure of it.” The Speaker paused, turning his head to watch. Selene and Ozy were heading towards the exit. The Ghost chirped again.

“We’re in this together now.”


	3. Innocence Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dangerous threat to the Traveler is neutralized, but it comes at a cost for the Guardian.

The Speaker left the room of the Consensus, his back turned on the joyful chatter. Again, Selene had performed a near-miracle. She and her Ghost had learned of the Hive ritual that had been slowly draining the Traveler of it’s Light. Then in an even more impressive feat, she had been the lone Guardian who had made it into the Hellmouth and ended the ritual when the Speaker had ordered all available forces to the Moon. For now, the Traveler remained inert, but the Speaker had been able to tell…its’ Light was glowing brighter. 

“We must begin a new search.” He said, watching as his Ghost flew up to his shoulder. “It did not occur to me that a shard of the Traveler could be used as a weapon against it. And how the Hive were able to obtain one and bring it to the Moon…” 

“There was nothing in the records?”

“No. Nothing regarding this.” The Speaker replied, shaking his head. “If my predecessors had encountered such a thing, those words were lost during the Calamity.” The lineage of the Traveler’s Speakers was a long and unbroken line, dating back to when the Traveler had first come to the Sol System. Remembering the loss of knowledge triggers pangs of guilt in the Speaker. He’s done his best he feels, but in the face of everything…it doesn’t seem good enough. Nor has he begun work on an even more urgent duty, which is to seek out and name a successor.

“Call back the others for now. We must…” The sound of violent retching made the Speaker pause. Alarm rippled though him, and he quickened his steps. Turning the corner, a command was on his tongue to send his Ghost for help—but what he saw made the Speaker stop.

“Selene-“ Ikora was bracing a hand on her student’s back. The young kinder-Guarden was gripping a railing, bent almost double over it. Her body was shuddering-and as the Speaker watched, another violent spasm overtook her. She coughed and gagged, bringing up bile—the Speaker noticed with shock that there was a pool of vomit at the Warlocks’ feet. 

“Selene-“

_“Ya do sikh por slyshu ikh v moyey golove.”_ Selene choked out**_. I can still hear them in my head._** _“Ya do sikh por slyshu krik.”_ **_I can still hear the screaming_**. She turned her head towards Ikora. Her skin was a ghostly white, and the dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises. 

“I can still feel their claws on my skin—” Here her body shuddered, and she turned away just in time to vomit. But now she was dry-heaving, her stomach completely empty. The Speaker felt his heart twist as a sob escaped the kinder-Garden’s throat. 

“It’s okay Selene, we’re safe. We’re safe, they can’t get us here.” This came from Selene’s Ghost, who floated next to his Guardian’s head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry Master…”

“No.” Ikora’s voice was gentle. She helped Selene stand-letting the younger Guardian slump against her. The Speaker found himself taking a step back—and quickly again summoned a Light-veil to hide him. The Warlock Vanguard gently pressed a kiss to her student’s head.

“You’ve been so brave.” She said. “I know what you and Ozy faced…it would terrify anyone. But you did not give into your fear.” Another sob came from Selene, and she buried her face in Ikora’s shoulder. Her own shoulders shook. Ikora reached out-gently wrapping her arms around her student in a hug.

“Let it out.” She whispered. “Don’t let it taint your Light.” The Speaker turned, bowing his head. He couldn’t stay to watch the scene—and when a muffled wail came from Selene, it only made him hasten his footsteps. 

_Coward, not wanting to see the price paid for your dream of some measure of peace for the City._ A nasty voice whispered in the back of the aged Warlock’s thoughts. The Speaker felt shame pinprick him, and not even the reassuring hum of his Ghost could assuage his guilt. 


	4. The Master Warlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On impulse, the Speaker takes up his past life to congratulate a novice Warlock on her upcoming official entrance into the City's ranks...but rips open a old wound while doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A small bit of theorycraft for this chapter. Pardon any creative liberties.)

The Guardian dormitories had been off limits for him since Saint-XIV’s disappearance. The Titan’s room was still untouched—all his things kept in order, should the Exo ever return to the city. And even though by this point it was very likely that Saint had died, the Speaker…just couldn’t bring himself to face that final…conclusion. Not just yet. Probably not ever. 

But he had found his feet moving—and his fingers reaching for a console, typing in commands. It was simple enough to bring up the needed directory. Then the Speaker found himself blinking in shock at the notes connected to Selene’s information.

“Eight months?” He whispered in surprise. “Traveler, another four and she’ll be a full-fledged Guardian.” His Ghost peered at the screen over his shoulder.

“It looks like she’s about to get her formal Warlock induction too.” With a buzz, the Ghost spun a back fin. “Maybe you could bring her a present.” 

“I can’t do such a thing. It would be…misconstructed.” A quiet hum was his only warning, and the Speaker found himself leaning slightly back as his Ghost hovered in front of his mask, fins pulled so that its ‘eye’ was narrowed at him. 

“Who said anything about you going as the Speaker?”

Sometime later an aged Guardian entered the main plaza of the Guardian dormitories. Warlocks immediately dropped into deep bows and murmured greetings to their superior, while Hunters nodded in respect and Titans saluted. Whispers immediately began as soon as he’d passed. For his part, the Warlock kept moving—stopping to look at an information directory. 

**_<<I feel obligated to tell you that it seems Zavala’s Ghost won the pool on you coming back.>>_** The Speaker repressed a sigh, hearing his Ghost’s chuckles in their shared neural net.

“I haven’t ventured out like this in a while.” He said, looking down at himself. Instead of his normal white robes of Speaker, he was now dressed in storm-grey and blue fabrics. Silver hair was neatly tied back into a queue, and a plain gold band was around the middle finger of his right hand. Gripped in his left hand was a small leather journal.

**_<<Years. At least you can do this. I can’t, because everyone would recognize my Light.>> _**The Speaker didn’t reply, turning around to look at his surroundings.

“I’d forgotten how lively this place was.” He said. It was a Saturday, and off-duty Guardians and Ghosts could be spotted moving back and forth. Yelling and loud conversations could be heard from the upper levels, with music drifting out of various windows. Sparrows were parked on the other side of the plaza, with their owners performing various tasks on them. The SLR season had recently started in the City, and a record number of Guardians had entered the races this year. Other Guardians were lugging baskets and boxes to the laundry rooms. Frames were hurrying back and forth with repair tools and kits—maintenance was on call 24-7 in the dorms. Guardians were known to be very hard on their living spaces.

_I’m dragging my feet._ Steeling himself—and feeling a gentle touch of reassurance from his Ghost, the Speaker turned towards the kinderGuardian wing. Oddly, it wasn’t hurting as much to be back in the Guardian dorms—yes, the pain was there, but it was a very dull ache that the Speaker found he could somewhat push to the side. And it did help he wasn’t going into the senior living areas.

_Let’s see. Floor 5, Room 273A_. Tucking his present into his robes—the Speaker headed for the elevator. 

The near-defeating blast of an electronic beat assaulted the Speaker’s ears the moment he stepped onto the fifth floor. Wincing, he immediately called on a spell—an invisible bubble to muffle the noise.

_Traveler’s Light, what is that?!_ The noise—he certainly couldn’t call it music, not in his opinion—was coming from the floor’s laundry room. Fully intent on ordering who was responsible to stop, the Speaker hurried forward. Rounding the corner, he prepared to yell-and then stopped at what was before him. The noise-music-whatever in the name of the Light it claimed to be—was coming from Selene’s Ghost, who was bobbing up and down crazily to the beat. Selene herself was sitting on a table, left leg tucked up under her, right leg dangling over the side. Her head was bowed over a book, but her right foot was moving in time to the music. Her hair spilled about her face on either side, and she was dressed in only a sleepshirt and pajama shorts. An empty laundry basket was next to her. The Speaker didn’t know if he should be in awe of the younger Guardian’s apparent powers of concentration or be concerned for her hearing.

**_<<Perhaps both.>>_** His Ghost commented. Selene’s Ghost spun about-and noticed the new arrival. His ‘eye’ widened in shock, and the music suddenly stopped as he dipped his fins. Selene’s head popped up.

“Ozy, what the hell?” Her eyes flicked to the entrance at her Ghost’s squeak. The Speaker watched as her eyes widened in recognition-and noted the speed at which the book went flying. The younger Guardian threw herself off the table, dropping into a deep bow.

“Master Dinawari!” The use of his old name took the Speaker aback for several moments. It had been a long time since anyone had addressed him as such. When he had taken up the Speaker’s Mask, the warlock known as Dinawari for all intents and purposes…had died. Technically.

“No, none of that.” Selene peered up at him. “Please. I get enough of that as it is whenever I return to the City. Warily, Selene straightened, her Ghost following suit. A sheepish look was on her features, and the Speaker could only guess all too well what was running through her mind. 

_Perhaps I should make this quick then._ Word would have already reached the Vanguard, and the Speaker knew Ikora and Zavala would seek him out. 

“I heard that you are to formally join our ranks.” It was almost amusing the way Selene’s head bobbed up and down vigorously. The Speaker bit back a smile, stepping forward.

“It’s tradition for a senior Warlock to give a gift. I fear I might be stealing this from your teacher, but I do not think she would mind.” Much. Reaching into his robes, the Speaker removed the small tome and held it out. Selene’s eyes widened, and she took it from his hands.

“M-M-Master Dinawari.” She stammered out. “This-this is…”

“A present from the City’s most powerful Stormcaller.” Her Ghost breathed. 

“It is nothing special, just an old journal.” The Speaker bit the inside of a cheek to keep from smiling. The look on Selene’s face was priceless. “Some meditations, spells, lists of reagents to use for your wards, a few philosophical scribblings on the Traveler.” 

“I will treasure it forever, Master Dinawari.” Selene said. Her eyes were bright as she clutched the journal close to her chest. The shift in her attitude was a welcome change from the sadness that had been lingering about her since her descent into the Hellmouth. The Speaker felt something twist inside him. Before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand, gently resting it on Selene’s head. The kinderGuardian started in surprise, gazing up at the master Warlock.

“…Sir?”

“You are stronger than the Hive. Do not allow them to corrupt your sanctuary.” The Speaker’s voice was gentle, but firm. “There are those that have missed your bright smile.”

“Missed my smile?” Selene repeated. The Speaker let his hand fall, stepping backward.

“I would suggest hiding that book in a safe place.” He commented. “If Ikora Rey gets her hands on it, you’ll probably not ever see it again.” He turned his back on Selene’s yelp of alarm and the electronic chirping of her Ghost. The room had suddenly started to close in on him, and an old pain had resurfaced…

_ “I keep forgetting how small humans are!”_

_ “I’m glad this amuses you, Saint.” The Speaker peered up at the massive Exo. Saint-XIV was petting his head, the lights in his mouthplates flashing as he laughed. “May I ask why you are petting my head?”_

_ “You looked like you needed a headpat.” _

_ “I’m wearing a mask.”_

_ “You sounded like you needed a headpat.”_

He needed to get away. He’d dared too much.

_in that moment it was as if he’d been with Saint again, father to child-_

The grief was back, the ball slamming into every painful surface.

_ He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want anything to intrude. He’d lost too much of his heart already._

A wave of pain so keen it robbed the Speaker of the ability to breathe for several moments.

_ “I’m going to Mercury!” _

The Speaker stumbled, grabbing onto a nearby railing. For several moments he clutched at the metal like a lifeline, hearing nothing save for the sounds of his raspy breathing and the worried voice of his Ghost. 

“I’m…I’m fine.”

**_<<Like hell you are!>> _**

“I’ll be better once we’re home.” The Speaker forced himself to let go. The metal was dented in the shape of his fingers, but there was nothing he could do for it. The sooner he returned to his quarters and put back on the blessed anonymity of his regalia-the better. He could hide again, and maybe, maybe just be able to breathe.


	5. The Side of Caution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two names in the City that are intertwined with the Vex. The Guardian knows them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Tiny bit of theorycraft. Thought it logical to assume we would have asked permission to head to the Reef--and the idea of 'rumors' regarding Osiris and Saint-14.)

Selene could only breathe deeply and hope she hadn’t screwed both herself and her Ghost over. She could feel Ozy’s anxiety through their bond—and the little nervous twitches of one of his back fins. In front of them was the full Consensus-Vanguard, New Monarchy, Dead Orbit, Future War Cult, and the Speaker.

_I really, really wish Ikora hadn’t gone this far._ Logically however, Selene knew what she had just revealed had needed to be heard by all the City leaders. But truth be told, when one kept offering polite refusals to the faction leaders to ally with any of them…it certainly was awkward when you were forced to come before them and ask for a very big favor. 

“I’m sorry. Could you please repeat what you just said?” Executor Hideo demanded.

_Dumbass._ Selene thought, feeling Ozy agree. The Ghost spun his back fins.

“It’s as we said. We were given a warning that the Traveler is still under attack.” He said. 

“By some mysterious Exo?” Hideo countered.

“Yes.” Selene replied. She looked at Ozy, who floated forward. Coming to a stop not too far away from the group, he projected a holo-image, revealing the hooded and armed Exo female he and Selene had encountered on Venus. Lakshmi-2 was the first to move, stepping forward to examine the image.

“The Stranger.” She breathed. 

“I thought they were a myth.” Zavala admitted. Crossing his arms behind his back, he looked at Selene. “They’ve contacted you twice, you said?”

“Yes.” Selene lied, feeling a twinge of guilt. She and Ozy had decided that it was possibly best for everyone involved if they presented an…edited version of events to the Vanguard. “Shortly before we entered the World’s Grave, she contacted us. Said that if we survived the Hive, to come to a set of coordinates on Venus.” Ozy in the meanwhile, had transferred his data to a tablet Lakshmi had presented to him.

“We weren’t able to go back until…well…recently.” He added, flying back to hover next to Selene’s head. “But we did, and well…” He chirped nervously.

“We were attacked by Vex.” Selene continued. “The combat data I’ve already uploaded to your devices. After we were able to push them back, she appeared. Asked if we had ever heard of the Black Garden and said that the greater threat to everyone was in there.” Drawing in a deep breath, Selene looked at the assembled group and continued.

“She told us to find the Black Garden. To rip out it’s heart.” She stated. “Then according to her the Traveler could begin to fully heal.”

“Were you aware of this?” Hideo asked the Speaker, turning towards the Warlock. The Speaker was silent for several moments, placing his fingertips together.

“Light is returning to the Traveler.” He began. “However, it has not been…at a pace that we would have liked. The possibility was very real that something else could have been using another Shard of the Traveler to inflict harm.” His gaze flicked to Selene. The kinderGuardian’s face was perfectly neutral, and she was standing at perfect attention. Her Ghost on the other hand—it was minuscule, but every so often, it was twitching.

_Those two know more than they’re letting on._ But he couldn’t detect any malice, and the data appeared to be clean. Ikora seemed to share his suspicions, she had fixed her student with a piercing glare.

“Do you feel that this information is valid?” She asked. 

“I believe it is, Master.” Selene answered. 

“There’s only one group of people who have the location to the Black Garden.” Cayde commented. The Hunter Vanguard crossed his arms. “Am I correct in guessing in what you’re fixing to ask next?” Selene exhaled, nodding.

“I would ask the permission of the Consensus to seek out the Awoken.” She said, her voice clear and steady. “I wish to ask them for the location of the Black Garden, to see if what I was told was the truth.” 

\-----------------

“Selene.” Hearing her name, Selene turned around. Ikora was walking towards her.

“Yes Master?”

“A moment, before you leave.” The Warlock Vanguard requested. After some debate, it had been decided to grant Selene’s request…with some concessions. Namely the kinderGuardian reporting in as often as she could. Approaching her student, Ikora crossed her arms—mimicking Zavala, Selene noted idly.

“You need to lie better.” She began. Selene’s eyes widened, and Ikora continued. “Ozy twitches.”

“Shit.” Ozy hissed. Ikora smirked.

“Might I get the entire story now?” She asked. Selene and Ozy glanced at each other, and then the younger Warlock gestured.

“We encountered the Exo before.” She said. “On the Moon, just before we awoke the Hive. There wasn’t anything for it, she just looked at us and disappeared.”

“And we thought of saying something sooner, but how well would the statement ‘There’s a strange Exo stalking us’ go over well with the Vanguard?” Ozy added. “Then there’s also…” He trailed off, fins spinning. 

“There’s also what?” Ikora repeated. Selene was silent for several moments.

“…You hear stories in the dorms.” She began. Ikora looked at her. “You learn how to stay out of trouble, and you learn what gets you in trouble. Specifically, what words, or rather-what name immediately lands you in front of the entire Consensus and you pray to the Traveler that they’re not going to take what you did the wrong way.” Ikora’s eyes widened. Selene paused, glancing to the side.

“You also learn the name of a Guardian the Speaker loved.” Her voice was quiet, her Russian accent resting on the words. “You learn that the name that gets you in trouble, and the name of the Guardian the Speaker loved best—so much he called him ‘son’. That name doesn’t get you in trouble, since he’s a City hero. But you know not to say it anyway, because nobody’s seen or heard from him, and his room’s untouched since the day he left.” Selene exhaled.

“You also learn another name, one that’s tangled up with the one nobody dares say, and the one of the Speaker’s son.” 

“The Vex.” Ikora murmured. “Selene…you should not be afraid to speak your mind, especially when it comes to the City’s safety.” To that Selene did not answer, glancing at Ozy. 

“I’m learning to err on the side of caution.” She said, looking back at her teacher. 


	6. Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Speaker reaches a breaking point.

They lost contact with her on the third morning. He was present for that moment, she had been checking in with the technicians when suddenly, the feed had gone dead. Ikora had stilled, Cayde had looked away, and Zavala had become even grimmer. The Speaker had felt his heart lurch in his chest-before an old and familiar fear settled in his gut. For the rest of the day he’d been barely able to focus on his work.

On the fourth day, he attempted to steady himself, and lock away his unruly emotions. It was no good to grow attached. She hadn’t made it through her full year (an excuse, she was only three months off now), he couldn’t show favoritism (another weak excuse, Osiris and Saint-14), she was Ikora’s student (what was the saying? It took a village to raise a child?).

On the fifth day he found himself donning his old robes and sneaking down to one of the Traveler’s shrines in the City. It had been an automatic habit for him to do so whenever Saint-14 had left the City to fight the Fallen. The full enormity of what he was doing hit the Speaker as he placed an insence stick in a holder, bringing on a wave of grief and shock so powerful that it almost floored him. He’d just been barely able to leave the shrine under his own power. His Ghost had to transmat him back to the Tower, then send out a message stating the Speaker was a bit under the weather, and that he would be taking the rest of the day off. That in turn had resulted in a flurry of encounters-assuring the Vanguard he was alright, it was perhaps the food he’d had last night, could they just keep an extra eye on Hideo for that day? Then it was dealing with Dead Orbit and Future War Cult, and his Ghost barring entry to one of Hideo’s henchmen who ‘just wanted to see if the Speaker had needed anything’—because **_Light be damned_** if he would allow New Monarchy to see him in his current state. It was finally mid-afternoon when things quieted, and the Speaker dragged himself towards his bedroom. As he hit the bed face first, groaning in relief, his Ghost flew up alongside him.

“You need to stop.” She stated. The Speaker rolled onto his back, looking at her.

“Nera.”

“Hush!” His Ghost snapped, flaring her fins. “Stop fighting this, Dinawari! I am tired-tired of seeing you wall off yourself!”

“I haven’t been walling off myself!” The Speaker snapped, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Yes, you have!” Nera flew into the Speaker’s eye-range, her back fins spinning. “You are a good man, with an even bigger heart. It was why you were chosen as Speaker!” Fins drooping, the Ghost lowered her voice.

“You aren’t built to be cold, or standoffish. I know it hurts, losing our kind. It hurts even more when they didn’t even get a chance to begin living. And I know you’ve suffered—seeing the Darkness encroach on us, the people losing hope. You feel as if you should have done more, been more. I know you blame yourself for Osiris and Saint.” The Speaker turned his head away at that, hair hiding his features. Nera was unfazed, floating to the side so she could continue to look at him.

“It’s okay to feel hope.” She whispered. “It’s…okay to be happy with everything. Your prayers were answered, Dinawari! We’re standing against the Darkness and winning! Saint would be so proud!”

“How in the hell would you know what he wanted?!” The Speaker snapped, hot tears starting to pool in his eyes. Nera stilled at the sharpness of her Guardian’s tone but narrowed her ‘eye’.

“I know he’d be ashamed to see you as how you’ve been.” She replied, matching the barb. A heavy silence hung in the room after her words. The Speaker curled his fingers into the covers of his bed, trembling with emotion. Nera was right-she was his heart, his soul, how could she not be? He’d been a shell of himself when it came to the Guardians—whenever one dared to get close, he’d stonewalled. It was safer, and it made it easier to bear when they died. He didn’t want this, this feeling that had slipped under his barriers without his knowing. He’d been safe and comfortably numb—until an auburn haired, blue-eyed woman-child had entered his life. A lump formed in the Speaker’s throat. Then both he and Nera jumped as the comm unit went off. The Ghost was the first to react, going over and activating the tablet. Drawing in a shakey breath, the Speaker put a hand to his face—then stilled as alarm snaked through his bond with Nera. The Ghost flew back over to him, fins spinning.

“She’s back!”

_It could have honestly gone bet_\- Selene’s voice trailed off as the Speaker entered the Vanguard command center. The other members of the Concenus were present as well, but the Speaker only had eyes for the holoimage being displayed. Selene was sitting in the cockpit of her ship, Ghost hovering next to her. She looked…both grim and annoyed.

“Speaker.” The Speaker’s head turned toward Zavala. “I’m sorry. I know you weren’t feeling well, but you need to hear this.” He nodded to Selene.

_It seems the Awoken have some sort of alliance with some Fallen_. Selene said. Behind his mask, the Speaker’s eyes widened.

“What?!” He exclaimed.

_ Let’s just say that for first meetings, it didn’t go well. Queen Mara had two Fallen bodyguards, who I mistook for the enemy._

_She’s a bitch and her brother’s an asshole!_ Ozy added. Selene shot him a dirty look, but the Ghost was unrepentant. In the control room, Lakshmi-1’s mouthplates flashed as she muffled a laugh, Arach Jalaal coughed—and Hideo glowered. Ikora could be heard hissing ‘Selene!’, Zavala scowled, and Cayde—like Lakshmi, was trying to keep from laughing.

“Were you able to gain the location of the Black Garden?” Zavala interjected, attempting to get back on topic. Selene shook her head.

_No. They demanded that I bring the head of a Vex Gate Lord back to them first._

“The head of a Vex Gate Lord?” The Speaker repeated.

“What in the name of the Light would they want with such a thing?” Ikora asked.

_I don’t know. We’re heading back to Venus-_

_I think they’re trying to kill us off!_ Ozy yelled, then screeched electronically as Selene swatted at him with a hand.

_We were heading back to the City to resupply, then head to Venus to see if we could find and track one down. Other than that, it was just us getting back into communication range as fast as we could._

“Were you able to find out what House?” Cayde-6 asked.

_ No. We didn’t have a chance to look around very well, though Ozy got a fast scan off. He’s sending what data he gathered now._

_It’s not much. But I was able to pick up a sizeable Fallen presence in that area of the Reef._ The Ghost said. The Speaker looked to Ikora, who had picked up a tablet, watching as the information began to download. 

“If the Awoken have allied with a Fallen House, then that changes things.” She said. 

“Agreed.” Zavala confirmed. “As it is now, I’m surprised the Queen let our Guardian go in one piece.”

_I told you, she’s trying to kill us off!_ Ozy ducked as Selene attempted to swat him once again. With a huff, Selene looked back at the assembled group.

_Unlike my Ghost, I’m trying to look at the situation in a somewhat positive manner. _ She said. _If anything, I think they expect me to fail. Which I have no plans of doing so._ Her voice was calm and steady.

“What motive would the Queen have for wanting her to fail?” Lakshmi-1 asked in a low voice. 

“Who knows?” Hideo muttered back.

“We’ll contact Holliday. The moment you land, she’ll know that refueling and resupplying you takes immediate priority.” Zavala said. “Vanguard out.” Selene nodded, and the holoimage vanished. The room was silent for several moments, and then Cayde spoke.

“Well, looks like things just got interesting.” He commented. The Speaker exhaled.

“I don’t think I-or the other members of the Consensus can do much here.” He said, glancing to the side. The faction leaders were nodding in agreement. “You have full control of this. Keep us updated.” Zavala nodded.

“I’ll send out a notification when Selene lands.” He said. The Speaker hesitated for a moment. Prudence warred with emotion.

"...Send Selene all we have on the Vex." He ordered. "It's not much, but she needs everything we can give her." _So that she can stay alive._


	7. The Warlock, The Prince, and the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tense encounter leads to a way into the Black Garden.

The guards had permitted her entry but weren’t following her. Which suited Selene just fine. Given what she was about to do, it would be helpful if she didn’t have to deal with an extra set of potential hostiles. Ozy floated alongside her, practically radiating malicious glee.

**_<<This is so worth us getting in trouble with the Vanguard!>>_** He cackled mentally. Following her defeat of the Gate Lord, Selene had been supposed to report back to the Tower before heading to the Reef. But the memory of her first encounter with Mara and Uldren had been enough to rekindle the embers of her temper. Ozy had been of a like mind, and so the two had decided to head back to the Reef first.

_ Let’s hope the two of them don’t try to pull anything._ Selene thought. Ozy sent assent back through their bond, he could ‘read’ her thoughts without her needing to speak. Squaring her shoulders, Selene continued to walk down the bridge. Setting her face into her best neutral expression, she headed directly for Mara Sov’s throne.

**_<<That’s not neutral, that’s raging resting bitch face.>>_**

_Can you not-_

“It is alive.” The soft-spoken voice of Mara echoed in the room. The Awoken Queen was lounging on her throne, almost exactly as how Selene had originally left her. “And it still has its’ ball.”

**_<<Did that bitch just call me a ball?!>>_** Selene didn’t reply, continuing to walk forward. She watched as Uldren turned towards her, a smirk on his face.

“There is no shame in running away, Guardian.” Selene tucked her tongue into her cheek, she could hear the spiteful delight in the Prince’s words. “Apart from the cowardice and failure of it, it’s an excellent strategy.”

_ You can kiss my ass, smarmy fuck. _The fabric of Selene’s robes swished about her ankles as the warlock came to a stop some feet away from the throne. 

“We didn’t run.” She answered, fixing the siblings with a dark glower. Mara looked up at Uldran, curiosity on her face.

“Was no Gate Lord slain, brother?” Uldren tilted his head at the question, surveying Selene—he’d heard the underlying malice in the Guardian’s tone.

“Oh, we slayed a Gate Lord.” Ozy interjected. Pride and smug self-satisfaction loaded every one of his words. Savoring what was about to happen next, Selene glanced at him.

“Ghost.” She said simply. Ozy’s response was a wave of glee through their bond. Suddenly, Selene felt a shimmer in the air as the Ghost tapped into his own Light. Within a heartbeat the massive head of the Gate Lord appeared directly in front of the throne, and then clattered to the ground in a crash of metal and sparking wires. The looks that crossed both Mara and Uldren’s face were priceless—a brief flash of surprise on the Queen’s face before she schooled her features back into lazy indifference. Uldren’s lips parted in shock, hands dropping from his belt as he stared at the Vex’s massive head. The Fallen guards had assumed defensive stances, muscles bunching in preparation of an attack. Standing straight, Selene stared down the quartet.

“We need to find the Black Garden.” She declared, her voice indicating she would brook no argument. Uldren recovered from his shock, shooting Selene a glare.

“They don’t even know where it is.” He mocked. The Warlock bit her tongue.

_Why do you think I’m here, you piece of shit?!_

“Let us tell them.” Mara’s voice snapped Selene out of her thoughts. “Search the Gate Lord for that which gains them entrance.” Uldren’s cloak snapped as he spun to face his sister.

“Why? If you wish them certain death, then kill them here!”

**_<<I TOLD YOU!>>_** Ozy screeched mentally. **_<<I told you, I told you, I told you!>>_** Selene didn’t respond, keeping her expression neutral as she watched the siblings.

_Calm down!_

“Often when we guess at others’ motives, we reveal our own.” The Awoken queen said rather icily, glittering blue eyes fixed on her brother. 

“My motive is simply loyalty…to a people.” Uldren said. He knelt by Mara’s side. “A queen…and a sister.” In response, Mara tilted her head to gaze at her brother.

“Then please…. take what is required.” She commanded. Selene pressed her lips together, carefully watching the pair interact. There were deeper undercurrents of something else, she sensed. What exactly she didn’t know, but she didn’t like the overall feeling she was getting. 

**_<<Reporting this to the Vanguard?>>_**

_Did you even have to ask that?_ Selene watched as Uldren rose, withdrawing his knife to do his sister’s bidding. _Are you getting any more scanning done?_

**_<<It’s the same data as last time. I can’t do more unless we’re able to walk around the place.>> _**In front of the pair, Uldren had removed the Gate Lord’s eye. As he held it up, the light within began to splutter, and then faded. A smirk crossed the Awoken Prince’s face.

“Dead…unfortunately.” He said, turning his gaze from Selene to Mara. Selene inhaled deeply, the temptation to inflict some type of physical harm on Uldren was starting to rise again. “A wasted journey, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps.” Mara agreed. “But I think these ones resourceful. We gift it.” 

_Ha!_ Selene crowed mentally, continuing to keep her face composed as Mara continued.

“In sympathy for their Traveler.” Uldren was still for several moments, before turning to face Selene and Ozy.

“Mars.” He said. “Eighty-four North, thirty-two East. Meridian Bay.” He flung the Eye at Selene with force, and the Warlock caught it with her left hand. 

_Did you get that, Ozy?_ She thought.

**_<<I did!>>_** Behind Uldren, Mara slowly rose from her throne.

“I have shown you benevolence, Guardian.” She declared. A strange glitter was in her eyes. “Should the Awoken ever need an ally, I will call on you. And expect you to answer.” Alongside her, the Fallen Vandals eased into more relaxed positions. In front of Selene, Uldren sheathed his knife.

“She’s saying you owe us, Guardian.” He all but growled. Selene narrowed her eyes at him.

“I understand.” She said, her voice syrupy sweet. 

**_<<Your accent just got thick there.>>_** Ozy commented. Ignoring her Ghost, Selene inclined her head to Mara Sov.

“Your Grace.” She said. Turning on a heel, she shot a glower at Uldren before starting to walk back the way she came, Eye clutched in her left hand. Ozy whirred as he turned around, following her. 

“Good luck!” Uldren called mockingly behind her. Selene didn’t reply, keeping her pace slow and unhurried. 

“Get the ship ready and push the engines as hard as you can.” She muttered. Ozy gave her a chirp of acknowledgement. “We’re going to the Tower first.”


	8. The First Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heart of the Black Garden is destroyed, but it brings a familiar aftermath for the Speaker.

_ He found himself standing in the garden again, during a storm. With a shock, the Speaker realized he was barefoot and without his mask. The smell of ozone was heavy in the air, and his feet pressed into the mud. Around him, rain poured down—on bright spots of green surrounded by brown. When the Speaker knelt to examine a green spot, he saw that the brown was dead and dying weeds. A flash of Light caught his eye, and the Speaker turned his head. The sapling from his first dream had grown taller, silver leaves flashing. Behind it still was the older tree, and it was with shock the Speaker noticed that it too, had changed. No longer was it completely withered._

_ **What is going on?** In a daze, the Speaker stood up and walked toward the two trees. The sapling was now at his waist. As he approached it, it almost seemed as if the branches and leaves made a gesturing motion to him. Yet the Speaker didn’t dare reach out, for the Light the sapling contained was so powerful that his entire body, down to his bones was beginning to ache. Overhead, lighting cracked and thunder roared. The Speaker looked up to find the eye of a hurricane beginning to form…_

“Dinawari! Dinawari!” Nera spun her fins in excitement, pushing at the Speaker’s mask. “Dinawari! Wake up, wake up!” She was rewarded with her Risen’s groaning, and the Ghost darted back down to nudge at him again.

“Dinawari!” 

“Nera, what…” The Speaker trailed off. Sitting up, he stared at the window in his bedroom—which afforded him a good view of the Traveler. A ripple of Light was slowly circling the Traveler’s surface, and as the Speaker watched, it suddenly vanished. Then for a few brief moments, the Traveler seemed to be…**brighter**. The Speaker felt his breath catch—would it? Could it be? Hope surged inside him, and the Warlock lurched from the bed. As he reached the window however, the brightness began to fade.

“No, no no no-no!” Heart sinking, the Speaker watched as the glow vanished. Light damn it all, for those several brief moments he had hoped-- Nera’s disappointment was keen though their bond, she’d been thinking the same as him. With a sigh, the Speaker bowed his head.

“So close.” He whispered. Light, if the Traveler could awaken—was that too much to ask? Then another realization hit him.

_Wait. That reaction… _

“…She did it.” Nera whispered. “_They _did it. Light…Dinawari, **_they did it_**!”

Spontaneous celebrations had already broken out in the City and Tower during the time it took Selene’s ship to return to Earth. Everyone had seen what had happened—the ripple of Light over the Traveler, the brief glow. Even though the god-orb hadn’t awakened, the hope it had brought—along with the news of Selene’s victory over the Darkness—had wrought an immediate change among the inhabitants of the Last City. The Speaker paused to watch a group of children run past him dressed in hastily cobbled-together Guardian costumes.

<<**_Probably a good idea to declare a public holiday for tomorrow>>._** Nera commented. <<**_Nobody’s going to be able to get any work done.>>_**

“Nobody’s getting any work done right now.” The Speaker pointed out. He hurried his steps—Selene’s ship had returned several minutes ago, and he wanted to be there to meet her. Along with the Vanguard and the rest of the Consensus.

<<**_A two-day holiday then_**.>> The Speaker chuckled. Before he could reply, an alert blared over the Tower P.A.

_Medical to Hanger, Code Yellow-repeat, Medical to Hanger, Code Yellow--_ The Speaker stopped in his tracks. _Repeat. Medical to Hanger, Code Yellow. Priority Scarlet._

_Oh no. No, no…_ Not caring for where he was or the looks he was getting, the Speaker began to run. Fear had replaced the joy inside him. Code Yellow meant a Guardian needing medical attention. Priority Scarlet meant critical condition.

_Please no!_ How many times he’d been through the same with Saint? But then it was different—Saint had only been fighting against the Fallen. He hadn’t fought against the Darkness itself-- Rounding the corner from the staircase into the main part of the Hanger, the Speaker froze. There was Selene’s ship-parked in its normal spot. However, the medical team was already there, securing a body onto a stretcher. Ikora was behind them, and as the Speaker watched—another medic hurried to put a Ghost into a containment unit. The Speaker recognized the shell—snow white with blue and orange Vanguard markings-it was Ozymandias. And lying on the stretcher…unmoving, pale, her Light almost gone, was Selene. 

\--------------------

“It’s honestly a miracle she made it back here.” The doctor consulted the tablet he held. “They’re both almost drained of Light. She’s got internal injuries that weren’t healed by her Ghost, along with major blood loss. His data shows he resurrected her at least thirty times.”

“But they will be alright?” Ikora asked, her voice tight with tension.

“As long as they both regenerate their Light, they’ll make a full recovery.” The Speaker felt himself sag in relief-but at the last moment seized his composure. 

“Please ready them for transport to the center.” He requested. Directly under the Traveler was a hospital—where those tainted by the Darkness or drained of their Light could rest and recover. The facility was open to humans and Guardians alike. Aside from Io, it was a scared place to Guardians, rife with the lingering raw power of the Traveler. “And her Ghost—does he have data of what she fought?”

“Already downloaded and awaiting you to take possession of it.” 

“I’ll collect it.” Zavala said. Ikora had moved to stand next to her pupil’s bed. With a sigh, she gently smoothed away several stray strands of hair from Selene’s face.

“You need to not frighten us so.” She murmured. “You didn’t have to rush back. Your health must come first.” Her words triggered a memory in the Speaker, and before he could react-

_ “Father, I don’t think I have the energy to return. I’ll rest here and come back to be honored when I return.”_

_ “Of course, son, but—” _

The Speaker inhaled sharply, closing his eyes behind his mask. Shoving that memory away-along with its fellows—he looked down at Selene again. The younger Warlock’s face was peaceful, her breathing steady. Next to her head on the pillow was Ozy, the Ghost looking somewhat brighter for his Guardian’s improvement over the past hour. With an effort, the Speaker forced his attention away from the pair and over to Zavala, who had taken a datacube from the doctor.


End file.
